


Stuck

by trr_rr



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Hannibal, Dark Will Graham, Incest, M/M, Shame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:43:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trr_rr/pseuds/trr_rr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will gets stuck in the mindset of a killer when reenacting a crime which leads him to acting strangely around his best buddy Hannibal Lecter</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkDreamsOfHannigram](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDreamsOfHannigram/gifts).



 

“I just don’t feel up to it. Can we skip tonight?”

“Jack called. He is concerned for your wellbeing, Will.” Hannibal sighed into the receiver. “I think it is important we meet tonight and discuss what happened.”

There was a pause; Hannibal could hear Will swallow on the other end.

“Fine.”

Later the doctor sat in his office. He’d finished with his last patient of the day. This was how he preferred to see Will. At the end of the day, after his other clients, so their conversations seemed more like a meeting of friends after work than an actual psychiatric appointment.

Hannibal waited until five past nine to check his waiting room. He had heard Will’s car pull into the driveway ten minutes prior.

He opened the weighted wooden door in towards himself and was greeted by the back of Will’s head.

He had been deep in thought, it seemed. He stared at the canvas that hung on the wall, head cocked to one side.

Hannibal took note; he had never seen Will appreciate art in such a manner.

“Do you like it?” He asked as way of announcement.

“I suppose.” Will answered, turning his head and then turning back again toward the painting. “Nice frame.”

Hannibal smiled in reply and stepped aside, clearing the way for Will.

The younger man lingered, stepping slowly into the office, glancing back at the artwork before moving to his usual seat.

Hannibal closed the door and unbuttoned the top fastening on his jacket, no need to be so formal with Will. They were friends, after all.

Will tapped the back of the chair. He stayed stood up, watching as Hannibal took his regular seat opposite.

“You are uncomfortable.” Hannibal observed. “Would you share what is causing you this discomfort?”

“You were right.”

Hannibal lifted his gaze in modest recognition.

“When?”

“When you said I needed to see you.” He nodded, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“You feel a need to discuss what happened. That is understandable. Our conversations have become a reliable source of relief for you, recently.” He crossed one leg over the other, his trouser leg pulled up to reveal his deep purple socks. “Tell me, Will.” He tilted his head. “What monster is Jack having you track this time?”

Will moved, stepping in line with the pattern of the carpet beneath his feet.

“I really havn’t been able to think as clearly about this one. It’s different.”

“I think they are all different, Will. That is the one trait they all have in common.”

“No. It’s not the killer that’s changed. It’s me. I’m…” He trailed off, passing Hannibal’s desk, tapping his fingers along the surface. He looked out the window to the street below.

“Still finding it hard to look?” Hannibal offered.

Will did not reply, rather, clenched his fists at his sides.

“I need a minute.”

“Will?”

“I just…I knew I needed to see you.”

Hannibal stood.

“Will, turn around please.”

There was no reply. Only the sound of fabric brushing fabric as Will’s shoulders hunched up high.

Hannibal stood with the table separating them both. It was a barrier for Will. Hannibal had learned early on that his friend needed space in which to properly articulate.

“He’s vicious.” It was a soft reply.

“This killer?”

“Yes.”

“I have not been informed as to the nature of his practice.”

“Didn’t Jack tell you?” Will stalled.

It was quite obvious that this was something Will was battling hard. His usual direct approach at explanation was not enough for the crimes he’d witnessed this time around.

“Will. This is a sanctuary for you. Nothing you say will be judged and nothing you confess will-“

“ _I know_.” His reply was little more than a hiss.

Hannibal was fascinated but waited quietly on his side of the desk for Will to gather his thoughts.

“He guts them.” Was Will’s opener. “They are alive and they feel it, and he finds it…delicious.”

The pleasure in Will’s description was palpable. His own acceptance was stamped down and denied but the tone, the underlying shiver ran through the man’s body and Hannibal saw his shoulders quake.

“We have dealt with mutilations much more imaginative and gruesome.” Hannibal tried. “What is it, Will? There is something about these crimes that cuts deep.”

He watched as Will raised a hand to his face.

“I think I should leave.”

“Will. There is nothing here that can hurt you. There is no danger in this room.”

“I feel like the danger in the room.” He swallowed, drawing his legs together.

“What else did he do to his victims, Will?”

“He, uh,” Will bent his head from side to side; the tendons in his neck gave a satisfying pop. “He opened them up with a knife.”

“I surmised there would be a sharp implement involved when you spoke of ‘gutting’.”

“He, uh. He, uh.” There was a tremor in his voice as he spoke.

Will shuddered and bowed his head. Hannibal realized Will was ashamed of his thoughts. He was horrified and yet there was a sense of guilt in him at the realization of those thoughts.

“I have to go.” Will spoke quickly, rushing past Hannibal with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Will, wait.” Hannibal reached out; it was obvious Will was very disturbed. Hannibal was going to suggest Will should calm down before attempting to drive in a state of distress. He grabbed Will’s arm loosely, dragging it from his pocket.

Will’s blush was deep and fierce, reaching up his ears and across his cheeks and nose. His eyes were wet and it looked as if he’d been chewing his lips, they appeared red and sorely bitten. He gasped when he was turned to face his unofficial doctor, yanking his hand away and covering his tented crotch with a pained and guilty look.

But it was too late. Hannibal had already seen.

“Will.” He spoke softly.

“Please.” He begged quietly. “Let me go.”

And so Hannibal let him leave.

He heard Will’s car pull away over the gravel drive.

He searched his phone book for Jack Crawford’s number.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal recieves a call

 

Hannibal was roused from study the next night by the tone of his personal cell.

He had ascertained from Jack Crawford that the string of murders Will had been investigating were sexually driven. Victims of either sex, often family members, were carved up, sometimes alone, sometimes in couples or groups and positioned in a horrific imitation of sexual intercourse.

Jack had a grave tone as he described one pair, two males, a son and a father who had been raped, murdered and positioned after death in such a vulgar way that Jack had mumbled and rushed over the description of it.

That was when he had asked Dr Lecter to meet with Will. Jack had sighed and thanked Hannibal hastily before bidding him good evening.

Hannibal thought on the implication of Will’s issues with family and his discomfort with having this killer in his mind.

Hannibal could understand Will’s reluctance to speak with him about sexual issues; he was a rather polite and private man, despite his often brash outbursts.

Hannibal was going over what Will had spoken of in their session. He was laid in bed, typing into his tablet when the phone rang.

He checked the caller ID but saw the number displayed as withheld.

“Hello?” He answered in question.

“….” There was silence, followed by the sound of water being run from a tap.

“Hello?”

“Da- Dr Lecter.”

“Will? Hello?”

“Are you alright?” He breathed hard into the receiver causing a whistle and crackle on his end of the line.

“Yes, Will. I am fine.”

“Please tell me- I didn’t, did I hurt you?”

“Will, are you at home? Are you safe?”

“Yes, yeah, I’m, I’m back at home. I was out but- Are you ok you have to _tell me_! Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” There was a manic fever in Will’s need for answers. His questions were pained with guilt and desperation, spoken in an urgent half breath. “Are you still bleeding?”

“I haven’t seen you since our last session, Will. Have you been drinking?”

“No,” there was a waver in Will’s voice, “no I haven’t,” as though he were trying to keep himself from sobbing.

“I am perfectly fine, Will. Have you lost time again?”

“No, I- I remember. I remember what I did to you.”

“Will, I am not sure I understand.” Hannibal put his tablet aside and removed his reading glasses.

“Dr Lecter. I think I was dreaming.”

“I presume you were dreaming, Will. Please, tell me what has you so concerned for my wellbeing?”

“I dreamt,” there was a gasp for air and a shocked, shuddering exhale; “I hurt you.”

“Go on, Will.”

“I had, your hands, in mine and they were, not separate anymore.” He took a levelling breath before he continued. “Your arms were bent back and you were like a bridge over the bed but you were so sad. It was beautiful and I was happy to show you, like I was helping you to realize.”

“Realize what, Will? What was I trying to understand?”

“Not separate anymore. Once you do it you can’t take it back and you knew that, he was telling you over and over and showing you with his...” Will swallowed. “You already knew, you could see it and you knew what he needed to tell you.”

“Will?”

“Please, I’m so sorry, He misses you and I’m so _sorry_ but I _liked_ it and I _can’t_ stop, nothing touches it anymore, nothing comes close to it. He has to keep doing it or no one will understand me. He sees it everywhere he goes and he’s jealous that they are untouched and ignorant to hurt and pain.”

“Perhaps I should come and talk with you, Will.”

“No _please_ , stay away from me. I’m not safe. I don’t want to touch-hurt you.”

Hannibal considered Will’s words and frowned.

“Will, we are friends, I am your doctor and you are my patient. You know that any physical contact between us would be highly unprofessional and morally questionable.”

“No, I know and I’m not _like_ that…” Hannibal could hear Will sniff and wipe his nose with his sleeve on other end. “Sorry, I, I shouldn’t have called so late. It’s past two in the morning, I’m so sorry, Dr Lecter.”

Will was becoming more closed off as his mind came back to him. Hannibal assumes he must have been in a waking sleep state when he dialed his number.

“No, Will, please don’t hang up. Stay on the line.”

“I gotta go. I need to get some rest I’m, haha, pretty tired.”

“Will.”

“Sorry, again. Good night, Doctor Lecter.”

The dial tone droned loudly and Hannibal wondered how this late night call for help would affect their next session. It wasn’t the voice of a killer; despite Will’s obvious switching between “I” and “he”, it was the call of a man who was frightened out of his wits that he might have hurt his friend.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is a request for my bb and will become explicit later. <3


End file.
